SOIREE
by Darthishtar
Summary: At a diplomatic reception, the worst of enemies get the opportunity to confront each other on several issues. Darth Vader vs. Princess Leia. Things could get interesting.


SOIREE  
By Kathryn Olsen  
  
"Absolutely not."  
  
Princess Leia Organa shook her head adamantly, her jaw set. "I absolutely will not   
do this. Not for the Rebellion, not even for you."  
  
Mon Mothma frowned deeply. "It's just another diplomatic mission. One of hundreds   
you've done already."  
  
Leia held up a hand. "Don't insult my intelligence, Mon. I've been forewarned about   
this. The Ketarans have come under a new government and they've invited some of the most   
powerful people on each side of the war to present their cases."  
  
"Correct so far."  
  
"You want me to go because I'm your civilian second-in-command," Leia continued. "You   
will be sending Commander Skywalker because he represents the Jedi Order as well as our snub-  
fighter contingent. You will send Admiral Ackbar for the Fleet and General Madine for the rest   
of the military. I understand the logic behind that, but also consider this: on the Imperial   
side, they will be sending Admiral Zsinj for the Fleet, Baron Soontir Fel for the snubfighters,   
General Cahren to equate General Madine, and in opposition to me, Darth Vader."  
  
Mon Mothma narrowed her eyes. "I will not let you off on the basis of a grudge."  
  
Leia clenched her jaw. "This is not about a grudge," she snapped. "This is about..."  
  
"I would advise you to watch your tone," Mon Mothma said icily.  
  
Leia bowed her head slightly. "I'm sorry; I intended no disrespect. It's just that   
I cannot bear to face any of those people again right now. The wounds are too raw for me to   
deal with them alone."  
  
"You won't be. You'll have Commander Skywalker."  
  
Leia narrowed her eyes. "Have you lost your sense of compassion? You know what Vader   
did to both of us. I wouldn't put him through it for anything."  
  
"Nevertheless, you two will be part of the delegation to the Ketaris Sector."  
  
"Yes, Madame."  
  
Mon Mothma's features softened slightly. "I'm sorry to do this, Leia, but I don't   
trust anyone else to handle this."  
  
Leia's mouth twitched. "Every time someone says that to me, it ends in disaster."  
* * *  
"From the expression on your face, I take it she didn't see things your way."  
  
Leia leaned hard against the doorjamb of Luke's office and sighed. "It went about as   
expected."  
  
"When do we leave?"  
  
"Tomorrow morning." She entered the office and sank into a chair. "You've got it easy.   
All you have to do is look decorative and try not to kill the other delegates."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "I don't see why. You know how it will progress."  
  
She nodded wearily. "It'll all fall apart on the first night, when they have the   
customary diplomatic reception. Someone from the Empire will object to Ackbar's presence simply   
because he's a non-human. There will be a polite tiff over that. One of our people will make   
a veiled insult to the Empire in general and the Imperial delegation will be less subtle. By   
the time dessert is served, they'll have us all arrested and take the Ketaris Sector by force   
and instate martial law."  
  
He shook his head in mock disgust. "They don't even have the courtesy to arrest us   
after dinner."  
  
"After destroying Alderaan, the Ghorman Massacre, the Jedi Purges, and covert assassinations   
of anyone who ever opposed them in the Senate..."  
  
"Except for you and Mon Mothma."  
  
She nodded. "I don't think they're concerned about being courteous." She sighed.  
"I wish Han were here. He'd make a joke out of the whole thing and probably insult all three  
sides, but he'd make it enjoyable."  
  
Luke nodded solemnly. "Maybe by the time we get back, Lando and Chewie will have tracked  
him down."  
  
"It's been four months," she countered. "For all we know..."  
  
Luke shook his head. "Don't think in the realm of 'for all we know.' Too dangerous."  
  
She rested her elbows on her knees and cupped her chin in her hands. "I don't know  
how I'm going to handle Vader again."  
  
She caught a flash of something in his eyes, a mixture of anger and sorrow. "I know  
the feeling."  
  
Leia pushed to her feet. "I have some paperwork and information to get through before  
we leave. We need to be at the auxiliary hangar at 0700."  
  
"I'll see you there."  
* * *  
"I see the Princess is here in full regalia," Governor Sterhaven said wryly. "It's  
nice to see someone adhering to the grandeur of the Old Republic as well as fighting for its  
principles."  
  
"Leia Organa, Princess of the Royal House of Alderaan, Senator of the Alderaanian sovereignty,  
second-in-command of the Alliance of Free Peoples."  
  
Luke turned to see Leia enter the room. Her shimmering hair was pulled back at the   
temples in two corkscrew braids. The rest of her hair was plaited into three loops hanging   
from where the first two braids met and the entire thing was woven through with pearls.  
  
Her gown was off-the-shoulder, an overlay of brocaded loveti mothsilk hanging to mid-  
abdomen. Underneath, the silk bodice was fitted and unadorned. The sleeves tapered to her wrists  
in the same material as the overlay, with tiny pearls lining them. The skirt hung in delicate,  
petal-like layers to the floor in the same material as the sleeves with more pearls edging a  
few of the layers. The chalcedony insignia of the royal house of Alderaan hung on a silver chain   
at her throat.  
  
He set his glass on the tray of a passing servant and bowed to the Governor. "If you'll  
excuse me, I should go see to her."  
  
He crossed to her side and offered an arm. She slipped her arm through his and accompanied  
him into the crowd. "I can't imagine what your entrance must have been like. 'Luke Skywalker,  
Commander of Rogue Squadron, hero of the Battle of Yavin, recipient of the Medal of Honor for  
his role in destroying the Death Star, Jedi Knight...'"  
  
Luke smiled slightly. "I don't think many of the other delegates are thrilled to see  
me here, regardless of the introduction."  
  
"Have the Imperials arrived yet?"  
  
"A few of them." He tilted his head towards the opposite end of the Grand Staircase,  
where Darth Vader had just made his entrance. "I think things are about to get more interesting."  
  
"Lord Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, commander of the Imperial Starfleet, second-  
in-command of the Empire."  
  
"Murderer," Leia hissed under her breath.  
  
Luke squeezed her upper arm. "Remember what Ackbar told us about keeping a civil tongue."  
  
She sent him a wry look. "I'm a diplomat. I can act my way through this reception,  
if nothing else."  
  
A chime rang and the crowd fell silent. "Dinner will be served following the dancing,  
which is about to begin, so you may proceed into the dining room."  
  
"I hope they've arranged seating by delegation or at least interspersed with the local  
officials."  
  
"We'll see," he assured her.  
  
They made their way into the dining room and found their places at the main table.  
Leia looked to her left and caught her breath as she saw the name on the placard. Luke leaned  
over and inhaled sharply.  
  
"'Lord Darth Vader.' Looks as though they've seated the leaders together."  
  
She nodded. "We'll have to endure it, I suppose."  
  
At that moment, the Dark Lord took his seat. "Your Highness, we meet again."  
  
Leia tilted her chin imperiously. "I'm surprised that we keep meeting at meals, as  
you are unable to join us in partaking of the food."  
  
"I suppose it is out of habit and a certain diplomatic necessity."  
  
Luke snorted loudly at his choice of words. "I shouldn't think you knew the word  
diplomatic."  
  
"True, it is not something I often find the need to practice."  
  
Luke could sense Leia struggling to control her emotions. She finally resorted to a  
cold smile. "Indeed."  
  
"You look unexpectedly beautiful tonight. I had not noticed how completely you had  
inherited your mother's beauty."  
  
"One typically doesn't regard a torture victim as beautiful," she snapped.  
  
Vader did not speak for a moment. "I assure you, Princess, Commander, that I am just  
as displeased to see you here as you are to encounter me."  
  
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Leia said quietly. "That sort of emotion  
typically requires a soul and principles. You have neither."  
  
Vader turned his head to look directly at Luke. Luke set his jaw firmly and returned  
the stare, driving off all mental probes that his father was attempting. He caught a flash  
of what might have been regret if he had thought it possible.  
  
"You might be surprised."   
* * *  
"Your Highness, I am just as dedicated to the preservation of the Empire as you are   
to the destruction of it."  
  
She nodded and Luke caught her posture relaxing slightly. They had crossed into her  
arena and she was in command of the territory. He squeezed her hand gently and she sent him   
a slight smile.  
  
"So that's why you're so afraid of us," she said quietly.  
  
"I fear no one, Your Highness."  
  
Her smile shrank into oblivion. "I wish you wouldn't keep calling me that. You should  
know as well as anyone that the society and family that granted me that title does not exist."  
  
"I address you by that as a matter of honor."  
  
Luke caught her hand and dug his nails into her palm. She snatched her hand away, her  
head shaking almost imperceptibly. "I thank you for that distinction, Lord Vader, but I hardly  
believe it."  
  
"I don't expect you do," he consented.  
  
The orchestra struck up a gentle Alderaanian waltz. Vader stood and turned to face her.   
He extended a hand to her and bowed his head ever so slightly. "The first dance traditionally   
is reserved for the leaders of the delegations. Would you so honor me?"  
  
She turned a terrified look on Luke, her heart constricting at the thought of being in  
close contact with that monster.   
  
Luke smiled slightly squeezed her hand. "Go ahead, Leia," he said quietly.  
  
She stood and gathered up her skirts with her right hand, placing her left hand in the  
grip of the enemy. With a surprising grace and gentleness, he led her around the table and  
onto the dance floor, then bowed. Too stunned to speak, she courtesied, then assumed the  
proper dancing position.  
  
"I would not have guessed that you could dance," she observed.  
  
"A skill my wife imposed upon me," he countered.  
  
She arched an eyebrow. "Your wife?"  
  
"Is it so hard to believe that someone may have loved me once?"  
  
She frowned thoughtfully. "I'd never thought of you in the capacity of a husband."  
  
"Your Highness, men are not born monsters. You don't seem to realize that there was  
a man before the monster. Like you, I have had hardships in my life; I have felt pain almost  
as much as I've caused it. I have loved and been loved."  
  
Her features softened slightly and she nodded. "It's hard for either side of a war   
to look at the other without a degree of prejudice," she said quietly. "Much of the Empire   
looks on us as nothing but lawless, heartless rabble who cannot accept justice. We tend to   
look on the Empire as those who have no souls because they've sold them to the demon."  
  
"We are all blinded by our own pains, Your Highness."  
  
"Is she alive?"  
  
"No. I have nothing of her left except memories and pain." He reached up to touch  
her hair. "Like you, she was royal by title as well as character. As a matter of fact, when  
I saw you tonight, I almost thought I saw her. The same regal bearing, the strikingly familiar  
features, and of course the dress."  
  
She cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"  
  
"The dress is a Nubian design, which is from her homeworld. She even had one very similar  
to it. You are much like her. When I met her, she was dressed as a commoner, but I could  
immediately tell there was something inherently noble about her. You have the same power.  
You even managed to look the princess in that cell on the Death Star."  
  
She winced at the memory. "Trick of the trade," she said quietly.  
  
He released her and held her arm above her head as she completed a spin. "Did you ever  
mourn for her," she asked.  
  
He paused for a moment, as though unsure of what she had said. "Not enough," he replied.  
  
She returned to the dancing position. "Who was the man before Vader?"  
  
"That is a dangerous question," he rumbled, but there was no threat in the statement.  
  
"Dangerous to whom," she countered.  
  
There was a hiss, something like an electronic sigh. "A lovesick Jedi Knight without  
enough sense to protect those he loved from the inevitable."  
  
"The inevitable?"  
  
"The life of a Jedi Knight is a great burden to anyone who undertakes it. Most of the  
Order knew no other life, since in the Republic, Jedi were identified as infants and taken into  
the protection of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. I was not so fortunate.  
  
"The man before Vader was born a slave on a gods-forsaken world. If it were not for  
a Jedi Master needing a hyperdrive from my owner, I would have remained there."  
  
She bit her lip and blinked back tears. "How many destinies are reshaped by faulty  
hyperdrives," she mused.  
  
"I always felt weak because I had to reconfigure my life to the will of the Force instead  
of inherently turning to it. I found my strength in the Dark Side."  
  
She narrowed her eyes. "So that's what you call this monstrosity. Strength."  
  
The song ended and he bowed. "Thank you for the dance, Your Highness."  
  
He led her off the dance floor, not to the now-empty table, but to the balcony that  
lay beyond. Surprised, she did not protest.  
  
She stood, leaning against the railing, and gazed up to the stars. "One of the few  
things I love about diplomatic missions is that I can take the time to enjoy what the Force  
has provided the universe. Especially stars."  
  
He nodded. "When I was a child, I wanted to be the first person to visit every star  
that I could see from Tatooine."  
  
"Visit? Not conquer?"  
  
He was silent for a moment, but for the regulated breathing. "Anakin was a very different  
person than Vader."  
  
She caught her breath involuntarily at the mention of his name. "May I ask you something?"  
  
"Naturally."  
  
"Are you happy with your life? What you're doing, I mean."  
  
"You have no fear, do you?"  
  
She tilted her chin. "I've been through two Imperial detentions, three interrogations,  
and five years of war. Fear is not a commodity I can afford."  
  
"True."  
  
She fixed him with an unwavering stare. "What's your answer?"  
  
"On many levels, yes."  
  
She set her jaw. "You enjoy making people suffer?"  
  
"I enjoy seeing justice done by any means necessary."  
  
"If you had any compassion left in that artificial heart, you would not include destroying   
the lives of innocents in 'any means necessary.'"  
  
"You love this Captain Solo."  
  
Startled at the abrupt change in topic, she nodded. "I do. More than I've ever loved  
anyone."  
  
"I had wondered why your hostility had escalated since our last...encounter."  
  
She snorted gently. "I hadn't noticed." She bit her lip. "You have done more to  
hurt those I care about than the entire Starfleet combined. If both of us outlive this war,   
I will personally see to your trial as a war criminal."  
  
"A grudge is a hard thing to live with."  
  
Without thinking, she reached out and shoved him with all her strength. He staggered  
back a step and caught her as she overbalanced. He backhanded her across the face, sending  
her staggering back into the railing.  
  
"Any other person would be dead by now," he growled.  
  
She cupped her hand over her nose and tilted her head back to prevent the blood from  
staining her dress. "I am not doing this on a grudge," she snapped.  
  
"You cannot tell me this war is not personal."  
  
"I do not know about you or any of my comrades, but this is not about me or Han or  
Luke any other individual. This is about tipping the scales. Evil has prevailed for far too   
long and unless someone takes a stand against it, there will be no one left to salvage what  
justice there may be left." She pulled her hand away from her nose, stared at her bloody palm,  
then winced. "I may not live to see the end of this war, but I will die knowing that I at least  
secured some measure of justice for those who will live to reap the benefits."  
  
"And consequences."  
  
Senator Princess Leia Organa drew herself up to her full height. "Possibly. Whatever   
happens, it will not be predicated on the personal feelings of a single person. Not you or   
I or Mon Mothma or even the Emperor. It will be through the selfless sacrifices of thousands   
of men and women."  
  
She let her hand drop to her side. "Selfless," she repeated. "A word that you would  
do well to learn the meaning of."  
  
His hand came up and for a moment, she thought he would strike her again. But the attack  
never came. His hand dropped to his side.  
  
"Your heroes of the Rebellion, such as Solo, Skywalker, and yourself. Their newfound  
fame is selflessness?"  
  
She smiled slightly. "They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally they  
became heroes."  
  
There was a pause, then he sighed and he bowed deeply.  
  
"I do not believe royalty to be a hereditary thing. I believe it is a matter of character.  
You are no nominal princess; you are the truest form of the word."  
  
She returned the bow. "Thank you."  
  
He reached up to brush his hand lightly over her broken nose. "My apologies for the  
outburst. I am not accustomed to encountering those brave enough to directly attack a Dark   
Lord of the Sith."  
  
"Possibly because we are so few in number," she countered.  
  
"Leia."  
  
Leia turned to see Luke approach. He took in her appearance at a glance and his eyes  
narrowed to slits. "The Governor is asking for you."  
  
She kissed his cheek. "Thank you."  
  
She turned to Vader and courtesied. "Lord Vader, it was enlightening. Until we meet  
again, may the Force be with you if no one else will." 


End file.
